


Living On the Bottle

by 13thDoctor, JHarkness



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: M/M, bartender!Miles, post-attempted assasination
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:52:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13thDoctor/pseuds/13thDoctor, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JHarkness/pseuds/JHarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twelve years after the blackout, Bas has a pretty good idea where Miles is hiding after the assassination attempt, but he hasn't decided what to do with him yet. Thus, he doesn't tell his men where he is going, slips on a disguise, and orders a drink at Miles' bar in Chicago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living On the Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> THIS FIC WILL NO LONGER BE UPDATED.

He couldn’t believe it.

After all the searching, the endless trails and the guessing trails and all the guessing, Miles was sitting in plain sight in the one place Monroe had imagined he would go. It was ironic, really. He’d looked everywhere but here. Bas had told himself that it wasn’t because he didn’t want Miles to be caught. He didn’t want him to be safe… But he did. Monroe wanted, more than anything, to hold Miles and kiss him until everything was all right again.

“What will it be?” The husky bass of Monroe’s former lover stunned him out of his thoughts.

“Uh, whiskey,” Bas replied a little too quickly. But Miles seemed not to care. He could hardly breathe as the drink was given to him and their warm hands brushed ever so slightly.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Miles asked. He finished his own glass of amber liquid and walked back over to Monroe.

The General laughed uncomfortably. He could not even begin to fathom what would happen if Miles knew who he was. “What gave it away?” he joked, not meeting the bartender’s eyes.

“I know everybody who comes through here,” Miles began, his gruff voice sending chills up Bas’ spine, “And I have never seen your face before. What brings you to Chicago?”

Bas grimaced, hardly managing to pull it into a smile before Miles could see it. If is former lover could not recognize him, his disguise was flawless. He wore an inconspicuous grey coat over a plain white shirt; dirty jeans and ugly brown boots completed his outfit. The coat had a hood that he kept over his slicked down hair, streaked dark brown with dirt. He had paid a ridiculous amount of money for contacts, thus his eyes were the same color as his shoes. Monroe covered them with a pair of small, black glasses, and had let his stubble grow out into a messy beard.

“I…” Bas exhaled loudly, his face heated under Miles’  scrutinizing gaze. _Ever the military man_ , he thought with a pang of loneliness. “I decided to travel. My family recently left me, so…” He didn’t finish the thought, instead searching Miles’ face for any guilt or recognition. The pain in his brown eyes was evident, but the rebel simply refilled Monroe’s glass and stayed silent.

“Trouble after the blackout?” Miles inquired.

“My uh, husband… He left me,” Monroe responded. He glanced down at his hand, usually adorned with the silver ring Miles had given him so many years ago. A sound like a broken clock escaped Bas’ throat as he realized that the bartender was still wearing his. Thoughts exploded in his head. He had come without the knowledge of his men, but he had also come without any idea of what he was going to do to Miles. Every muscle in his body screamed for him to leave the bar and not return. He knew that if he stayed, he would either kill Miles or fuck him on the counter. Both options were unthinkable, as either would put both of them in danger. So he simply finished his drink and ordered another.

It was going to be a long night.


End file.
